


another turn of the page

by evanescent_jasmine



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: AU wherein Jon goes Leitner-hunting with his goth bf, Gen, Set in Ep 4: Page Turner and building on it, Statement Fic, from the POV of the statement-giver, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:20:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22736329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evanescent_jasmine/pseuds/evanescent_jasmine
Summary: Stood just over the threshold were two men. One in a long, dark leather coat, his hair dyed an artificial black. The other was in a suit that had clearly seen better days. Both of them had that unshaven look of someone who hadn't slept in a while, but the one in the suit was especially haggard.Wherein Jonathan Sims is a mysterious recurring figure in statements.
Relationships: Gerard Keay & Jonathan Sims
Comments: 18
Kudos: 242





	another turn of the page

Stood just over the threshold were two men. One in a long, dark leather coat, his hair dyed an artificial black. The other was in a suit that had clearly seen better days. Both of them had that unshaven look of someone who hadn't slept in a while, but the one in the suit was especially haggard. Greying at the temples. 

The one in the leather coat seemed the more likely of the two to be Gerard Keay, given what I’d seen of his mother, so I asked him and he said that he was. He told me he'd like to see my book. I nodded silently and the two of them followed me inside, closing the door behind them. 

I took out the book and placed it on the table. Gerard studied it for some time but did not touch it. His companion didn’t even look at the book. Instead...he was watching _me._ Large dark eyes fixed on me. I can’t remember if he blinked. I’m not sure it would have made a difference if he had. He was...It felt like he was all eyes.

It was only when Gerard spoke again that his companion looked away. He offered to buy the book for five thousand pounds. I almost laughed. I would have sold it for a fraction of the amount. I might even have given it away, if it wasn’t for the feeling that that… wouldn’t count somehow. It’s hard to explain. I didn’t care what he planned to do with it, I just wanted to get rid of it, get rid of _them._

So I agreed.

Gerard didn’t seem exactly happy at the news. He just nodded gravely and headed towards the door, saying he’d need to get the money and return. He left. Leaving the man in the suit behind. 

I wish he hadn’t. I wish the man in the suit had gone with him. At least this time he wasn’t watching me, but the way he looked around my flat gave me the distinct feeling it was because he’d already seen all he needed in me. 

Then he asked me if it was alright if he smoked.

Normally I’d have said no but the smell of the ozone was far worse than any cigarette smoke and, anyway, he wasn’t waiting for my answer. He had already taken out his lighter, an old zippo with an eye on it, and lit his cigarette.

He asked me if I’d tried to read the book.

I said it was in Latin and I couldn’t read Latin.

”But you’ve gone through it,” he said, and asked me what I’d experienced since then. No. His exact words were, “What have you seen?” I don’t know why that’s stuck with me so much. Maybe the way he was looking at me, and the eye on his lighter—and Gerard too, he had tattoos of eyes.

I told him the book was right there, if he wanted to know so badly. He didn’t. 

Just kept looking at me. And I found myself telling him. 

I suppose I was tired. Or I hoped to warn him of what they were getting into. Or perhaps I told him for the same reason I’m telling you. Whatever it was, I told him about the wood cutouts, the Lichtenberg figure, about my childhood friend and the smell of ozone that even now surrounded us, despite the tobacco stink. 

He nodded and thanked me and… Given what Mary Keay had shown me in her shop, perhaps he was used to more harrowing tales and more bizarre books, but he looked almost relaxed. I didn’t have the time to question it, as it was at this moment that the knocking came again. Gerard had returned. 

He eyed the man in the suit and something seemed to pass between them, because he frowned and the man just shrugged. Then Gerard handed me an envelope filled with cash. I didn’t even bother to count it before handing him the book. 

The man with the suit handed him his zippo and, from the inside of his jacket, a bottle of lighter fluid. I was a bit concerned and took a step back but Gerard only laughed.

“That kind, then?” he said, and the man in the suit nodded. So Gerard placed the book in my metal waste paper basket and, within a few seconds, the book was ablaze. The ozone scent vanished almost immediately. All that was left was the smell of the cigarette, which the man in the suit flicked into the bin.

Now that my head began to clear, I felt like I had to ask them why. Who _were_ these people. 

The one in the suit said, “Does it matter,” even as Gerard Keay replied, “My mother doesn’t always know what’s best.”

He lifted the waste paper bin, now full of gently smouldering ashes. I warned him it would be too hot to hold, but he shrugged and said he’d had worse. Then Gerard Keay left, and I never saw him or the book again.

But sometimes, out of the corner of my eye, I think I see him. With the suit. Watching me with those large, dark eyes. When I turn, he’s never there, but I can...I can feel it.

I can feel it now. A hot itch between my shoulders. He, or you, or _someone_ is watching me, and I can feel it. 

I don’t know how to make it stop. But at least the ozone smell is gone. 

Statement ends. 

Well…

This isn’t the first mention of Gerard Keay and his mum we’ve come across. There was...where was it...ah. Statement 0121102, Lesere Saraki and the thing with the burning man. Follow-up revealed Gerard Keay had been released into the care of his boyfriend, a Mr. Jonathan Sims, according to Tim. That’ll be the man with the suit, I guess.

We hadn’t been able to locate either of them at the time—too many Jonathan Simses around, and with just a name to go on...Well. Anyway, with the help of Mr. Swain’s description, we’ve been able to narrow it down, we think. If this _is_ the man we’re looking for, he used to work as a researcher and writer for GhostHunt UK before he disappeared abruptly in 2012. Just before this, actually. Explains a lot about the change in direction, though I still think it’s a pretty good show all in all, especially the episodes on—um. Oh. Christ, off on a tangent again. And after Tim’s already...Maybe, maybe I should re-record this…

Yeah. Yeah, I should. Probably tone down the, uh, voices too while I’m at it. This isn’t a reading, remember, you’re not performing for anyone. Just. Just need to stay cool and professional about it. You can manage it with every other statement. These ones going on tape shouldn’t make you lose yourself. 

Um. Right. 

Case number 0132806. Statement of Dominic Swain, regarding a book he found in an Oxfam charity shop. Original statement given June 28th, 2013. Statement recorded by Martin Blackwood, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London

Statement begins.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what this is, just a little thing I banged out over an evening or two because the thought wouldn't leave me. Thank you for reading, nonetheless!


End file.
